


Inhumanly Human

by comtessedebussy



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 18:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comtessedebussy/pseuds/comtessedebussy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, it's disconcerting and uncomfortable to have a partner who can read your vitals, your anger, your embarassment - your arousal. Especially if he's the one eliciting said arousal. </p><p>And sometimes, it's quite nice to have an android partner who can read your response to every single thing he does to your body. </p><p>(This is pretty much 4k+ words of nothing but porn. And feels).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inhumanly Human

**Author's Note:**

> That scene in "Skin" where Dorian reads John's arousal really got me thinking: Dorian can probably, from John's vitals, tell what he's feeling a lot of the time, including when and if he's aroused. And if John and Dorian are going to be spending this much time together with that much UST between them....well, I kind of see this fic as the only way out of *that* situation. 
> 
> My first John/Dorian fic, and pretty much my first non-Supernatural fic in ....forever. I don't quite know these characters well enough yet to truly feel like I've done them justice, but hopefully I haven't done too badly.

The worst part about having an android partner, John thought, was the utter vulnerability. It was the fact that Dorian could know what he was feeling at any moment. The fact that the robot could scan his pulse and vital signs, discern his level of stress, instantly see any need or vulnerability or any other human response.

Sometimes all Dorian could see were the simple things, of course, things like anger or annoyance that his coffee was too cold or frustration that their lead had trickled through their fingers. Those were normal emotions, easily explained and requiring no justification.

But then Dorian knew the other things, the ones that truly made him vulnerable. Dorian knew when he was afraid – as a cop, John had long ago developed the habit of masking fear behind a façade, of rushing into danger without a second thought despite the terror seeping into his bones, and no one had to know that when he ran into firefights it was not because he didn’t feel fear but because he ran on adrenaline and willpower. But Dorian would know. Dorian could read the fear and adrenaline rushing through his body, however elaborate his façade; Dorian could know he was afraid.

Dorian could read his panic and PTSD and anxiety and flashbacks in his heartrate and the chemicals in his body; knew when to corner John and take him to an office, sit him in a chair, press him against the wall, and tell him to _breathe._ Knew when John needed to be managed, taken care of, _pampered_ by a fucking android who probably thought his human weaknesses an inconvenience he put up with.

And, as it became clear, Dorian could also read his arousal; could read his pupils dilating and his pulse elevating and the blood rushing through his head. Which was embarrassing in itself, but it was even more fucking embarrassing because it was _Dorian_ who sent John’s pulse skyrocketing, Dorian who made his body lose control of itself as chemicals flooded through his veins in response to his cocky smile.

John wondered how long it’d take Dorian to notice, and just what degree of embarrassing it would be when the ever-methodical robot made the correlation between his presence and arousal. Either that, or he’d probably decide John was permanently horny, even at the weirdest times.

Fuck.

It was really embarrassing.

Maybe Dorian wouldn’t make the connection. Maybe, since he didn’t have any baseline to compare John’s arousal to outside his presence he wouldn’t be able to correlate the detective’s constant horniness with his presence. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the way that John’s heart beat faster at the slightest of Dorian’s touches, on the shoulder, on the hand. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the chemicals running through his bloodstream when the robot stepped closer, until they stood only inches apart in the midst of a heated argument that John so wished would turn into another heated activity. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the reactions of John’s body when Dorian walked close to him, or the longing when he stepped away.

And maybe, just maybe, John wanted him to, in that place deep inside him where embarrassment warred with loneliness.

…

John could swear, after a few weeks, that Dorian’s behavior changed; he stood closer to John, made more excuses to place a hand on his shoulder or his arm, to hand him things, to look him in the eye. It’d be easy to ascribe it to Dorian’s non-humanity, to his incomprehension of social conventions, but Dorian interacted perfectly with everyone else, joked, used idioms, questioned suspects with skill. It was only with John that he was outright infuriating, his grey eyes steely and piercing every time he got close, as if he was seeing through John. Well, he probably was, but what it meant, John had no idea.

Had Dorian seen through him – literally? Was he testing the boundaries? Confirming a hypothesis? Or just messing with John because he could, to get back at him for all the words John had said when they’d first started working together? Was John an experiment to him, an experiment Dorian was perfectly equipped to run?

John withdrew into himself. He had been reclusive ever since he’d come out of his coma – a natural response, as a number of psychiatrists liked to inform him. The pain of loss, both physical and emotional, and betrayal, meant that there was almost no one in his life to begin with – and if there was, he wasn’t too inclined to let them in. Dorian had begun to coax him out of his shell, with his jokes and jibes and easygoing manner that John found hard to resist. But now Dorian, too, was distant and incomprehensible, erecting a wall between them with each strange action, each carefully calculated maneuver.

…

They still work together as partners, of course, and John still finds that he gets along with Dorian much better than any MX (and a handful of humans). Dorian’s unique abilities and his own drive make them well-matched to solve cases, and they’ve made it a habit to round off days with dinner at John’s large and otherwise empty apartment. Dorian rarely eats (though he can), but they enjoy the time spent together – especially with the safety of the kitchen counter between them.

They have burgers, which John convinces Dorian to try, and the android obliges. The banter between them is easy, useless, but creates a rapport that John enjoys. Dorian, thankfully, doesn’t make any pointed statements about where he could stick his fingers – he’d changed tactics, it seems, from trying to get things out of John with blunt questions and uncomfortable jibes, to just intimidating him with closeness.

Then John clears away the plates, and when he turns around, Dorian is inches from him, so close that if they were not nothing more than simply professional partners this would be intimate.

“Dorian? What are you doing?”

“Running an experiment,” the android answers, taking another step forward and forcing John to back into a wall.

“What kind of experiment?” he manages to demand.

“I am attempting to ascertain the exact effect of my presence on you, physically,” he explains.

“And?” John asks, with a sinking feeling, because he thinks he knows where this is going, and this is not going to end in anything good for him.

 “And, my sensors and bioscanners reveal that my physical proximity to you elicits arousal.”

“Does it, now?” John asks testily. He knows that Dorian is correct; the android’s presence has his heartbeat racing and his blood pounding through his ears. Dorian’s very proximity to him sends thrills to his body, though he knows it is nothing but a tantalizing temptation that will be snatched away from him.

“Yes. I have suspected so for some time, but your current physical response to my presence confirms it. Your body shows signs of arousal from this particular position of …intimacy.”

“And?” John demands, defensive, because that’s the only thing left to him at this point. John knows he can’t very well deny the evidence of Dorian’s sensors. He steels his face, hoping his no-nonsense expression might deter Dorian from whatever unfortunate end he was leading up to.

“And,” Dorian says, bringing their faces even closer, so close that, if Dorian had needed to breath, John would’ve been able to feel his breath on his own lips. “I need your consent.”

John’s mouth drops open before he’s even aware of it, and his steely mask evaporates in the same instant. He can’t keep up his façade of not caring, of being hard and unfeeling, because he’s in too much shock. That couldn’t be it, Dorian couldn’t want _him_. All those times Dorian had acted strangely, intimately, they couldn’t have been more than experiments, Dorian couldn’t want to take this somewhere. John was a pretty pathetic failure at being human, and that’s what Dorian valued most. Humanity. How could Dorian want _him_?

“John?” Dorian asks, his voice soft; he’d no doubt registered the surprise and confusion flooding through him in whatever physical way that manifested itself.

“I – “ he began, as a flood of doubt and uncertainty cascaded down on him; then he realized how Dorian must be interpreting his uncertainty. The android knew how much John disliked “synthetics,” must be realizing that John’s physical reactions were some kind of strange anomaly, that his uncertainty was rejection –

“I consent,” he managed to croak out, the most candid admission of anything between them that he could manage at the moment.

It was enough for Dorian, who leaned in to cover the negligible space between them and kiss him. It was strange, unlike any kiss John had ever had. Dorian’s skin was made to look human, but it was still synthetic, and it felt the wrong temperature, but mostly it did not feel like the skin of a living being; it did not feel like the skin and mouth of a being whose body was warmed by the coursing of blood; there was something fundamental _biological_ missing from how he felt. But, John was surprised to find, he didn’t care. He wanted Dorian, wanted this closeness, wanted them to be molded together like this as their lips pressed together, forgetting all around them.

Dorian broke away just as John was beginning to run out of breath; he could multitask, John remembered, and had probably been monitoring his vitals as they’d been kissing, keeping a close eye on the responses of John’s body. He must’ve known just when John had reached his limit, when he needed air or he’d start seeing stars.

Damn android, John thought, as a warmth spread through his chest.

Dorian moved from his mouth to his neck, his hands deftly and yet impatiently unzipping his shirt as his synthetic lips pressed against John’s human skin, trailing kisses. He didn’t have to look up to John’s face to gage his reaction to this new action, John realized; he could no doubt sense the spike of arousal in when Dorian’s lips latched onto the crook of his neck. Dorian alternated between kissing and biting as he worked his way down, alternating gentleness and strength, and John’s last coherent thought, as he threw his head back against the wall and moaned, was that Dorian was probably monitoring his response to each stimulus and using the data to decide how to proceed.

And, if Dorian’s mouth was anything to judge by, his sensors and logic circuits were functioning perfectly, allowing Dorian to find the most sensitive areas of skin (just at the crook of his neck, for him), and bite – hard – before trailing his lips onto John’s shoulder.

“Damn,” John breathed, as Dorian continued his expert ministrations.

Dorian chuckled, pressing closer against him, trapping John’s quickly growing erection between the two of them. John had long ago given up any effort to hide his arousal; his hardened dick was, he was sure, a completely unnecessary confirmation of his enthusiasm to Dorian. He felt Dorian’s hands at the hem of his shirt and allowed the android to remove it – an act he did swiftly and expertly – before moving to return his lips to John’s skin. Before he knew what he was doing, John reached for Dorian’s clothing, sliding his “DRN” jacket off and tugging insistently at the hem of the T-shirt that the android obediently removed.

John didn’t quite know why he wanted Dorian unclothed – his body wasn’t a human body, after all; running his hands in admiration over Dorian’s perfectly shaped muscles would be as pointless as admiring the shape of a piece of machinery. Still, he wanted that feel of skin against skin – however synthetic some of that skin might be - wanted the feeling that they were on even footing here, equally bare before the other, even though he knew Dorian could see through him in ways that made him feel emotionally naked.

A look of surprise flitted against Dorian’s face, quickly replaced by determination as his hands – his strong, inhuman hands – returned to pressing John against the wall. One of those hands gathered John’s wrists easily, pinning them above his head in a grip of superhuman strength, as John was reminded yet again of the inhuman nature of the being he was baring himself before. And again, Dorian had no need to look to John’s face for approval; again, John knew Dorian could sense the momentary surge of pleasure in his body elicited at being so suddenly and completely dominated by his partner.

Now that Dorian had a complete expanse of skin to work with, his explorations became more fervent; he trailed his lips from John’s neck to his chest, pausing to suck on a nipple and then carefully examine the results (another loud moan from John, as another wave of arousal washed over him), then biting down on a nipple (John’s arousal heightened, sending a thrill to him, which John was absolutely certain Dorian registered in its chemical and numerical equivalent).

Dorian was more expert than anyone he had ever been with, despite the fact that this was no doubt his first experience. He touched John just right, kissed him just right, bit into his skin just right; and yet there was something more than mechanical, more than scientific about it; though Dorian was proceeding on the basis of data he was continually gathering and conclusions his logic circuits were providing him, it was not cold and unfeeling. Instead, there was something possessive and demanding about the way Dorian used his android strength to hold John where he wanted him, fingers pressing against his wrists; the way he used his inhuman body to press John against the wall as his mouth left possessive, reddening marks on John’s skin. Those marks were perfectly placed, perfectly executed, and yet pieces of evidence of a human need to take, to have, to possess. And, though Dorian himself was not breathless and needy, he pressed their bodies together as if he, too, needed the physical closeness he offered John. And though, while John was being reduced to incoherent moans and the physical sensation of thrills and surges of arousal, Dorian was perfectly composed and coherent, John could still feel the android _want_ this. He did not _need_ it, like John did, was not buoyed about by the desperation of the physical sensations that consumed John, and yet the intensity with which he threw himself into his explorations of John’s body, his perfect dedication, his willingness- all spoke of a desperate desire that he shared with John.

 “Dorian, please,” he begged. Dorian’s expert ministrations had made him harder than ever, and he sought relief, jerking and moving beneath Dorian’s insistent hands, begging for more of his touch, for anything more.

Dorian dropped to his knees, and again John opened his mouth in surprise as Dorian quickly and deftly unbuckled his belt and pulled down his zipper. He started teasing again, much as he had before, mouthing at John’s cock through his boxers and then, just when John thought he couldn’t take it anymore, pulling them down and mouthing at the head of his cock.

John swallowed, still awed by Dorian’s willingness to do so much, to do _this_. He felt himself trembling with need, helpless before Dorian. Reduced to helplessness by the damn robot, and he knew that Dorian could scientifically measure every inch of his desperation. Not that that made him _do_ anything about it, oh no, Dorian continued to tease, taking the head of John’s cock into his mouth – only the head – and sucking obscenely. It felt little different than a blowjob from a human mouth – even better perhaps, with Dorian’s mouth wet and warm and inviting, and John wanted to thrust his hips forward into that perfect, inviting heat, but here, too, Dorian stopped him. His strong hands settled on John’s hips, digging into them enough to leave bruises while holding him motionless against the wall as he teased. John made helpless, keening sounds of protest as Dorian licked stripes up his cock, kissed the tip, touched his balls – anything, that is, but taking the full length into his mouth. He shivered with anticipation at each touch, a fact no doubt not lost on Dorian.

Then, just as John thought he might fall apart from need, just as his body, strung out from being on the very edge, inches away from the satisfaction that Dorian dangled before him without following through – Dorian took him in his mouth.

John nearly came then and there. As it was, he knew that, thanks to Dorian’s expert teasing, he wouldn’t last a minute. Dorian seemed to know this too, for he did away with the teasing in favor of taking John completely in his mouth. He had no gag reflex, of course – no android did – and nor did he need to breathe. The combination was one of the best – and the quickest – blowjobs John had ever had. Dorian moved his head with fluent, practiced (no, they weren’t practiced, John had to remind himself. Dorian just had an inhuman advantage) movements, taking John’s length into his mouth completely with each thrust. His hands continued to dig into John’s hips, keeping him motionless, as Dorian’s mouth did all the work. Each time John’s cock hit the back of Dorian’s throat, John looked down, expecting to see discomfort, perhaps his eyes watering, but no – of course Dorian showed no sign of discomfort. He could do this for John because he could not _feel_ physical discomfort. Each motion was perfectly choreographed, the perfection of a machine – and yet, as Dorian knelt before him, his eyes occasionally meeting John, the desire to give, to offer, of a human. Dorian was using his inhuman abilities to act like a human – to willingly offer pleasure and comfort because he wanted to.

It was perhaps that thought that took John over the edge – that, or the way Dorian swallowed around his cock just right, with an obscene sucking noise. And, true to romantic clichés, John came with Dorian’s name on his lips, spilling himself into Dorian’s mouth, which the other swallowed obediently.

Afterwards, Dorian rose gracefully, waiting until John had caught his breath again before pressing his body against the detective’s for another, tender, kiss. John returned it, pouring his gratitude into the motions as Dorian pressed his body against his own. Pressed them together close enough that John could feel Dorian’s erection –

John’s lips parted in surprise, and Dorian broke away, looking at John with a knowing glance.

“I didn’t know – “ John began.

“I am anatomically correct and fully functional. Part of the DRN model design. They wanted us to be able to emulate every aspect of humanity.”

“So can you – “

“Orgasm? In a way. However,” Dorian explained calmly, “for me it is an emotional response of satisfaction rather than one of physical pleasure.”

“So how do I – “ John began again, and again Dorian foresaw his question and cut him off.

“As you would with another – with a human,” he amended.

“Okay,” John agreed.

He leaned forward to kiss Dorian again, as his hand snaked down the smooth, perfect skin of Dorian’s chest to his pants. One-handed, and with infinitely less skill and speed than Dorian, he undid the buckle and zipper and freed Dorian’s erection. He broke away to look down at it in curiosity. It was shaped just as one might imagine – just as the human organ, with its skin tone and texture matching the rest of Dorian’s body. He began to stroke it lightly, attempting to gage Dorian’s reaction. The android’s eyes fluttered, but he made no other sign or reaction.

“Can you feel that?” John asked, as he continued his movements.

“Not in the same way you would, but yes. I can _sense_ that you are touching me, but I do not interpret it as a sensation of pleasure,”  Dorian responded. He sounded perfectly collected – the way no man would sound with a hand on his erection. Then again, Dorian was not a man.

“Huh.” John was feeling more and more lost. He was by no means inexperienced  - though his expertise was likely outdone by Dorian’s inhuman perfection at everything he put his mind too. That in itself would not be so disconcerting, but he had no idea what to do when Dorian couldn’t even really _feel_ anything in the way John could feel, in the way that every single one of John’s other partners had been able to feel. Their bodies had responded to his touch, a myriad sensations bringing pleasure and giggles and moans to their lips. But what did he do with a body that could feel no pleasure? How did he make Dorian feel good?

He continued the movements of his hand, though, watching Dorian carefully. That was definitely a look of satisfaction on Dorian’s face, even if his body didn’t move and shiver and blush in the same way his own did.

“Don’t stop,” Dorian murmured, surprising John. He continued his movements, bringing his lips to Dorian’s again, then moving from his lips to his neck, exactly as Dorian had done.

“Yes,” Dorian murmured, though his voice did not sound strained and broken the way John’s doubtless had. Frustrated, John reversed their positions, until it was Dorian slammed against the wall rather than him; Dorian allowed himself to be manhandled by the weaker human, smiled, even, at John’s insistence.

“Like that,” he acquiesced. “It is not the physical sensations themselves I desire, but your attention. Your willingness to do this, to have this between us. That is what brings me the pleasure that I _can_ feel,” he explained eloquently. Another reminder that Dorian was no human – he could not be reduced to incoherency by pleasure, could not lose his train of thoughts at the feel of touches and kisses.

Still, Dorian had ways to show his pleasure; he continued his murmured acquiescences, holding John close, sighing contentedly. Carefully calculated motions, simulations of how a human would react at the physical sensation of pleasure, but, in Dorian – the calculated decisions to physically manifest his emotional state.

They were enough, though; enough for John to know that Dorian wanted this – not the way John had wanted it, not physically, not desperately – but somewhere in that synthetic soul of his, he wanted. And John gave him what he wanted. John brought him joy.

John bit the crook of neck and shoulder, just as Dorian had done for him, and Dorian moaned; one of his perfect hands tangled in John’s hair while the other circled around his waist, keeping John pressed close to him, keeping his lips pressed to Dorian’s skin. John went where Dorian’s hand directed him, putting all of his concentration into showering attentions on Dorian’s body as he would on any other human…trailing soft, tender kisses over the shoulder, biting a well-formed pectoral muscle, sucking on a nipple. He pulled away in surprise as the nipple hardened, raising an eyebrow.

“A programmed response to a certain form of stimulation,” Dorian explained, smiling. “But don’t stop.”

John went back to what he’d been doing. It was strange, knowing that Dorian could sense _what_ he was doing, but couldn’t truly _feel_ it; still, he continued as if there were no difference, as if Dorian’s body were truly human and could respond as a human’s would. Dorian continued to encourage him, hand still tangled in John’s hair, the sounds spilling from his mouth sounding like genuine responses. He allowed his hand to continue its motions as well, despite the uncomfortable angle as they were pressed together.

“Yes – oh _yes,_ ” Dorian murmured as John sucked on the skin of his chest especially insistently. On human skin, that would no doubt leave a bruise, a mark of John’s possessiveness and desire, but Dorian did not bruise. He could not be marked as _John_ ’s – then again, Dorian was already property, technically a machine owned by the police department John worked for. He could not be John’s because he did not have the freedom to give himself to someone, to allow another to mark him as their own. Still, John thought of Dorian as _his_ –not as property, but as someone who belonged to him to the exclusion of no one else. Dorian was _his_ because Dorian was no one else’s.

Continuing that train of thought, his lips murmured “Mine” insistently, as if to make up for the marks they could not leave on Dorian’s skin.

Dorian came.

It was, naturally, unlike a human orgasm. There was no come, no release of fluid, no shaking or trembling of panting. There was, however, a surprised cry, as Dorian closed his eyes and threw his head back and held on to John. He looked peaceful rather than wracked by his climax, but it was a peace elicited by a feeling of profound joy, a peace that he savored, as he closed his eyes and shut out all of the world but John and everything John had made him feel.

John looked on with curiosity.

“How does it feel?” he asked, when Dorian opened his piercing grey eyes again.

“Interesting,” Dorian admitted. “To know that someone wanted me, to receive so much attention, so freely given, for nothing but my sake…it is exhilarating. Everything you did – you did for me. I believe I understand why people desire intimacy now.”

John flushed, looking away. “Sometimes it’s not about the intimacy. Sometimes it just feels good physically,” he pointed out.

“I know,” Dorian said softly. “But I cannot feel physical pleasure – I can only feel intimacy. I can feel the joy of knowing that you care, that you would treat me with the same affection as you would a human. That is enough. It is more than enough.”

“Yeah, okay,” John muttered. With the haze of need and pleasure and desire gone, he was remembering every second of what they’d done, and wondering where they would go from here. What were they to each other now? Boyfriends? Lovers? What would they do? He wondered if this was even against regulations; were there even regulations for fraternizing with one’s android partner? Surely there must be some clause about it somewhere, surely they were in trouble.

“John,” Dorian interrupted, reading his concern easily. “Don’t worry about it.” His voice was level and soothing, sending comfort through John’s being. Dorian always had that effect on him – comfort.

“We’ll make it work,” he said softly, as he eyed the bedroom.

“Okay,” John agreed, as he followed Dorian towards a spacious bed. It had always felt too big to John for one person, but was perfect for two. Dorian helped him remove his synthetic leg (he sighed in relief as the synthetic body part came off), and then, despite John’s protests, carried him into bed with the ease with which he’d carry a feather. If he was perturbed by the obvious, gaping emptiness where a human limb should be (or a synthetic one, for that matter), he didn’t let it show.

“I had no idea,” John said into the dark they lay in together. He was not one to talk of feelings, but here the comfort of darkness soothed him, even if he knew that Dorian could still read the responses of his body if he so chose.

“Hmm?”

“That you…well, that you could want something like this.”

“You didn’t think I could want sex? Or intimacy?”

“It’s not that,” John insisted quickly. “Well…maybe…,” he conceded before continuing. “I just – well, somehow my mind stopped at the idea that you could never want _me_ and I didn’t really wonder beyond that. You obviously don’t have the same physical needs that I do so I just thought…well, I thought you didn’t _need_ in the same way I did and – “ he shrugged, aware that Dorian could sense the movement in the dark.

“And I wondered for so long whether you wanted me. Your feelings about ..non-humans – were clear.”

“Well,” John said dryly, “I still have no interest in a sex bot. I just want you.”

“I’m flattered,” Dorian said, in the same dry voice, but John knew the words rang true.

“I only want you as well,” Dorian added after a short silence.

That night, John fell asleep in the arms of his synthetic partner. 


End file.
